Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [45]
Every adult bozal at Hacienda los Gemelos had attempted escape, and a couple of the native-born, too. Generally, slave owners didn’t buy known runaways, because once they’d tried to escape, they would try again. “What can we do to prevent that?” Ramón asked Severo.
“They have to believe that there are consequences, and that we mean it when we tell them what they are.”
A few days before Ramón, Inocente, and Ana arrived, Severo said, he had lined up the slaves in the batey and warned them that if they tried to run away, he’d find them.
“And when I do, I told them, the law gives me the right to punish you, and believe me, I will.”
His quiet, dispassionate tone was chilling. While he gave no specific example of what punishment he’d deliver, Ana heard the threat as if it applied even to her. “No wonder they’re scared of you.”
“It’s them, or us, señora. They will challenge their masters at every opportunity. No one wants to be a slave. They had the bad fortune of being born in Africa.”
“You sound like you’re sorry for them,” Ramón said.
“Maybe, sometimes. But that doesn’t keep me from doing my job.”
As if to spare her that aspect of the operation, the first time Severo was going to punish a slave he suggested that Ana stay indoors the next morning. Whippings took place in a field behind the barns, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t see from the casona. The screams, however, reached her, and echoed in her mind after the sentence was dispensed and the rest of the workers returned to their labors.
“Is there another way to discipline them?” she asked Ramón and Inocente over supper that night. “I couldn’t bear the screaming.”
“The whip is the only way to train and teach them,” Inocente said. “They have to be punished.…”
“Who was it? What did he do?”
“Jacobo,” Ramón said, “tried to steal a machete.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” Inocente said.
“He was planning to run away,” Ramón said.
“And who knows what else,” his brother added.
“Don’t scare her, Inocente.”
Inocente patted Ana’s hand. “Severo knows what he’s doing.”
“I know,” she said, remembering Severo’s matter-of-fact demeanor when talking about the slaves. With Severo Fuentes in charge of their workforce, Ana knew they need not worry about whether or how things would get done. He was completely in charge, and sometimes, when reviewing the complex ledgers, she wished that Ramón and Inocente would be as competent on the business side.
She soon confirmed that, as she noticed in Cádiz, Ramón and Inocente hadn’t devoted enough time in the Marítima Argoso Marín offices to have a clear understanding of income relative to expenses. They spent much time shaking their heads over the ledgers, never quite figuring out how to balance them.
Her mother and the nuns had drilled Ana on the vagaries of household economy and domestic finance. At first the brothers didn’t want Ana involved in day-to-day operations, but they agreed that Ana had a better grasp of bookkeeping than they did, and soon she was managing the accounting as efficiently as Severo Fuentes oversaw the workers. Once she demonstrated that she could maneuver around their financial predicaments, on paper at least, the twins consulted her more often.
“It makes no sense,” she said to Ramón and Inocente, “to keep slaves who can’t be put to work.”
“What are we supposed to do with them?”
“We can enlarge the vegetable gardens and orchards. Children too young for the fields and the crippled or elderly can plant and maintain them. The more food we can raise here, the less we’ll have to buy from local farms.”
“That alone could save us hundreds of pesos a year,” Inocente acknowledged.
“We can raise more animals and fowl for meat and eggs. We can have goats, sheep, and cows for milk and cheese. Whatever we don’t use, we sell.”
“We’ll have to hire another foreman,” Ramón said.
“Why?”
“Severo and the two bosses are out in the fields all day long. Ramón and I are also busy. Someone has to train and supervise them,” Inocente said.
“I’ll do that,” Ana said. There was a silence. “Why do you both look so shocked?”